In Naggiar's Fields
by Fanwright
Summary: The year is 1915. In the final months of EW1, a young Catherine O'Hara is finally eligible to join the Gallian Militia. Fighting for the sake of her family, she is eager to fulfill her duty to Gallia. But as the horrors of war unfold before her, pushing her to the breaking point, Catherine must struggle to survive in the hellish moonscape of Naggiar.
1. Prologue: Collected Works

**Prologue: Collected Works**

"Death of the Militiaman"

By Catherine O'Hara

(1916)

From my mother's arms I was pulled into the State

And marched with weariness till my frail spirit broke

An eternity from green hamlets, shaken from dreams of life

I awoke to shot and shell bursts and the nightmare of gas

When I died they left my body in a crater of brown yoke

* * *

"Sweet Are the Dead"

By Catherine O'Hara

(1916)

Faces so pale with wondrous eyes

Bonds of life cut, with soothing sighs

So very dear, gather closer yet,

Draw close, but speak not

Phantoms of countless dreams, so plain of sight

So free from painful sobs and mortal plight

Follow me ever, but desert me not

Become my companions

How sweet are the blooming cheeks of the living

How sweet are the musical voices sounding

But sweet, ah how sweet, are the dead

With their silent eyes

* * *

"Remembrance"

By Nadine

(1935)

How can men die worse

Than facing impossible odds

For the clout of their generals

and the glory of their gods?

It is their curse; these poor souls

That spill their blood en masse

Gone unsung and unwritten

As the ages come to pass

We neglect the nameless ones

But the earth remembers well

As poppies bathe in red grow

To honor those that fell

Sleep well, you bold and brave

Who charge and never yield

The earth will comfort you in death

As you lay in Naggiar's Fields

* * *

"The Specter"

By Nadine

(1935)

Her weary heart beats with mournful sobs

Her pale hands clench an ice-cold rifle

Her dismal eyes gaze into the endless abyss

Her aching legs drag her forlornly forward

Despite her toil, she cannot forget

Despite her sadness, she cannot weep

Despite her pleas, she cannot die

Gray dust

Covers her faded blue form

I saw her smile

And gently smile

A timid, practiced smile

This is the Specter

This is her…

* * *

**A/N**: Below is a list of the authors and poems I took inspiration from in forming the above works in the order they appear in.

"The Death of the Ball Turret Gunner", By Randal Jarrel

"Ashes of Soldiers", By Walt Whitman

"In Flanders Fields", By John McCrae

"The Happy Warrior", By Herbert Read


	2. Ch 1: Reviving the Dream

Ch. 1: Reviving the Dream

Vasel, February 1915

For as long as she could remember Catherine O'Hara had always thought of her father as a man to be feared. He was a man made of fearful proportions who possessed a fearful wrath, built up from years of backbreaking labor in a poor country that cared little for him. He thought, as many immigrants did, that things would be different in Galllia. He thought he would finally find the life of peace and plenty that so many Gallians enjoyed and that many from the Old Country envied. Yet as Catherine entered the small dilapidated apartment she grudgingly accepted as her home she was reminded of her father's dream; one that slowly decayed yet still willfully held out.

Catherine thought like her father once. When he was able to pay for his eldest daughter's passage over from Hibernia she thought life in Gallia would be different as well. No more digging for potatoes in the dead of winter, no more patches to be sewn on old dresses, no more stomach pains for want of food, no more evictions from Britannian landlords, and no more looting from dead men in the street, killed by the Hunger or for some nascent political party. In time Gallia whittled her down as she endured the hardships of city life, striving for a small dream that guttered like a candle in a storm. Since coming off the boat in Vasel it was all that Catherine could do to hold on to that dream, even as she endured lowered wartime wages and prejudice in school.

Coming home that afternoon was different. A flame was lit within her that she had not felt since coming to Gallia. For the first time she had a real chance to revive her family's dream of the good life. She could reunite them and make them all full-fledged Gallians in no time. All that was required of her to do was don the sky-blue uniform of the Gallian Militia and serve.

"I'll be damned if I don't take this chance!" she had said to the recruiter, "I'm old enough, fit enough, and trained enough thanks you your schooling here."

It was as if the Valkyrur on high had blessed her and the Gallian government had finally taken pity on her. A fear of defying her father paled in comparison to the great opportunity she now took to solve her family's suffering. It was a deeply rooted fear nonetheless.

"Hello, father" she said casually, trying to control the uneasiness in her voice. He slouched in their dingy grey apartment eating dinner under a weak yellow light that hanged haphazardly in the middle of the kitchen. He bit hungrily into the flimsy sandwich made from scraps left in the pantry, savoring the scant taste as only a starving foundry worker could. Grease and black dust were smattered over his exhausted face. His head hung low, as if in prayer, shutting the world and his troubles out. The smell of alcohol hung in the air and a freshly opened bottle of whiskey sat near him. He hardly registered her greeting.

"Another hard day…" she whispered to herself. Taking a last glimpse of the crisp blue uniform she wore Catherine took a slow deep breath as she dumped her standard issue pack and webbing onto the rotted wood floor.

"Do you have a minute, father?" she asked, "I've something I need to talk to you about."

As he slowly looked up from his dinner Catherine braced herself, standing as confidently as she could. Though her father looked heavily fatigued she felt she was in the presence of a ferocious beast, ready to waylay her at the slightest sign of weakness. She stood as motionless as prey caught in the gaze of a predator as her father carefully studied her uniform and equipment, gauging her purpose. She felt her spirit waver under his glare as he realized what she had done. Yet Catherine still held firm. She had to stay strong now for the sake of her family, even if her father disagreed. Though he would not admit it working in the foundries had slowly tore away at his body and mind, turning him into a bitter and desperate man. He took money where he could find it, sometimes through underhanded means, just to feed her. Though Catherine feared him, it tore at her heart to see her father become the grey and menacing form he was. He may unleash his rage against her for what she did, but in time she hoped he would understand.

"Catherine" her father said commandingly, "I want you to take that uniform and equipment back to where you got it."

She stood silently, staring back at her father.

"Did you hear me? I said take that stuff where you got it from and return it", he said again sternly.

When she did not move he got up from his chair, rolling a newspaper up and clenching it in his fist. He moved toward Catherine, towering over her as he stood blotting the light out from the kitchen. Again she stood in silent defiance.

"I can't do that, father" she finally said, "All this is mine to keep now. I've made up my mind to join the militia to-" Before she could finish her father brought the newspaper down hard on her.

"You stupid little girl! What did I tell you?" he yelled furiously, "Didn't I tell you to bring that stuff back where you got it from? What foolishness have you gotten yourself into?"

"It's not foolishness, father!" Catherine yelled back, clenching her arm. "Just listen to me and-"

"I don't give a damn what you have to say Catherine!" he interrupted, "I told you time again not to mettle in such-"

"Please just hear me out, father. Just listen and I can-"

"I don't want to hear another word out your mouth, you-"

"Just shut up and listen, you old fool!" she cried out, tears of pain and anger running down her cheeks.

There was no turning back from this now. Catherine had to follow through or risk everything she had hoped to achieve. The fire within her seemed to grow, a potent mix of hope and anger fuelled her now.

"You…what did you say to me?" her father growled, rage and shock twisting his face, "You ungrateful girl, after all I've done to get you here you have the damn nerve to-"

"I said listen for once" she repeated sternly, "then maybe you'll understand... how tired I am."

"Tired? Of what?" her father inquired menacingly.

"I'm tired, father, of all this hard living. I'm tired of this damned dirty cage of an apartment. I'm tired of working for nothing. I'm tired of people saying we're no better than darcsens for what we're worth. I'm tired of people looking down on me and saying I should just jump into the river and swim back to Hiberina like the soggy ship rat I'm am. I'm tired missing mum and Eileen and not being able to hold them. And I'm tired of you as you are!"

In that moment, looking up from under her father's shadow, Catherine witnessed the red flush of rage disappear from his face. He blinked taken back by all she had said. He seemed to shrink, retreating back from her, as if cornered by the fears and follies she had disturbed within him.

"I'm tired watching you suffer. I'm tired of seeing you become this… beast of a man. Always coming home bitter and drunk with a demon's hate in your eyes. Always angry at the world for not giving us what we want. Always taking it out on me 'cause I don't do enough…" She breathed heavily, trying to hold back the tears rushing from her eyes.

"C-Catherine you-"

"I'm tired…I'm just sick and tired of it all." she continued, her spirits rising "And when I finally come home with the answer, the prayer, we were hoping for what do you go and do? Tell me its foolish!"

"And why do you think it's not, Catherine!?" her father yelled back, "Tell me, why do you think you going off to war is not foolish? Can you tell me that?"

Now Catherine was shocked by what he said, still firmly asserting his claim.

"You think fighting for them will solve our problems? You think shedding your blood for a country that hands out empty promises like candy to claim a victory long overdue will make us citizens?"

"It's what they said! It's written and made official, father! Valkrur almighty, it's the chance we've been praying for! Don't you see? We can finally get mum and Eileen over here. We'll be whole again and everything will be right with the world."

"Things were never right even when we were together, Catherine! And how is any of this supposed to work out when you're dead, huh? Shot up in some muddy trench without so much as a burial! Don't you realize what you've gotten yourself into you damned foolish girl? You've signed your life away to them! I… I can't…"

His legs gave out as he failed to compose himself. As Catherine remained stunned her father fell back into his chair, fists dug into his face, groaning angrily in an effort to hold back his tears.

"Damn it I can't lose you! I can't, Catherine. I just…" he choked on his words, trying to speak through intermittent sobs.

Catherine stood astonished by what she was seeing. In all her life she had never once seen her father so fraught with distress. Even when times were worse in Gallia, through food shortages and work riots that threaten to send them back to Hibernia in shame, he never truly broke. He may have turned to drink to vent his anger, but he never wept over his sorrow. It baffled her to see the unnatural sight of her father in such a vulnerable state.

As he struggled desperately to find his bearing Catherine motioned toward her father. She knelt beside him, her arms placed gently around him as he hunched over in his seat shielding himself from the world around him. Her emotions seemed to battle with each other as she tried to comfort her father. She wanted to him to be at peace, to understand what she was doing was not only for her but for him and their family as well. She wanted them all to be together again, that to become Gallians meant so much more than being just that. If she had to serve, even if it was not her fight, it was still the land they had struggled so hard make a life in. It was still the land that haunted their dreams, a land to finally make a beautiful new life in.

"Why?" she asked softly, "Why can't I make you understand?"

Her father looked up to meet her, eyes shimmering from sadness. Through her own grief stricken gaze she saw him through those eyes. He was a man exhausted from life yet still willing fight on, one who believed his burden should be carried alone. Every hard day of work and every ducat earned brought his family closer to getting into Gallia, even at the price of himself.

"You work so hard, father. The Valkyrur knows I'm no less proud of you for what you've done for us. If you could only see what's its done to you, carrying this burden alone. How it's turned you into such a bitter man. I'd give anything to see you smile again. I'd fight to see you and mother smile again. To hold each other and be whole again."

She pleaded with him, trying everything to convince him. It had to sink in. He had to know she could help him carry that burden. Catherine held her father closer, as if to help him shield against the troubles around them.

"Valkyrur knows we've been fighting for this in our own way. I can fight for us, father. Just one more push, one more struggle, and we can be whole again. Its just like you said when I came here all those years ago, 'One more push and we'll have a place to call home.' I can do this for us, father. Isn't that worth fighting for?"

There was only silence for a time as the two knelt under the dim yellow light. Time seemed to stop for Catherine as she embraced him anxiously, still contemplating as he buried his hands into his face. She had done all she could. Weariness took her, her head lighter and her sight hazier as she faded in and out of consciousness. She wanted to rest, but above all she waited for him.

"Oh Catherine…" he finally whispered. Suddenly her weariness faded. Her strength seemed to surge through her again. She listened attentively, her heart bursting with blind joy.

"…If only you could know" he continued, "If I could only show you what I've seen with my eyes. How cruel men can be in war. How they hanged each other in the Old Country back then. How we turned each other into blood thirsty dogs…"

Just as suddenly as her joy came it was gone. Grief and distress once again wracked her as she took in those words.

"I'd rather be the wretch that I am than be a dog again. I'd rather you stay the child I know than be a monster."

Catherine was taken back. As her father looked up to her she inched away from him, disbelieving in what he said.

"I can't let you go, Catherine. I don't want you to see the things I've seen. Do the things I've done. It'll poison you, this war, as it's poison so many here in Gallia. And nothing can make you forget it."

He stood up wanting to embrace his daughter, to save her, but she continued to back away.

"Don't go off and fight for this, child," he pleaded, "Not in their war. Just do what you do now, that's fighting enough. What we're doing, just getting mother and your sister over, it's not worth dying for. Please, just go and return that uniform. Don't be foolish, child."

Anger welled up inside her once more. Her father's pleading failed to impress her.

"I'm not passing up this chance." She exclaimed, "If I serve in their army, they'll make me a Gallian. Then they'll make our family Gallians and we can be together again."

Her words came out as fire as she saw them burn away what strength he had left to convince her. He stumbled over his feet having to lean on the table for support.

In a last few words she ended their bout, "If you won't fight for that, then I will." With that she turned her back on him and began to collect her gear.

"Never again…" she heard her father whimper, "I can't let you go!"

Suddenly there was a crash of glass as bottles and plates were swiped to the floor. Turning, Catherine saw her father once again take up the newspaper to bring it back down upon her. As he swung ponderously she managed to dodge him, instead striking the wall hard. His balance gave way as he stumbled to the grown in a half-drunken stupor. Catherine was shocked to the lengths her father was going. She suddenly felt her apartment become more of the menacing cage it was and she panicked. There was only one way out now.

Hurriedly gathering her gear she rushed to her room to gather anything she might need. As she hastily to put as much belongings in her bag as she could Catherine could hear her father coming to. Stumbling under the weight of her load she made for the door.

In the hallway of her apartment block other tenants peeked their heads out, aroused by the heated argument that took place behind the thin walls. Anger coursed through her as Catherine sped down the hall, blinded by tears. She could hear her father call out to her, pleading for her to come back. As the entrance door slammed open she disappeared into the night, making her way to the only other person that cared about her in the whole of Gallia.


End file.
